


[SKETCH] Monika Awakens

by Smolkobold



Series: [Sketch] [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Mannequin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolkobold/pseuds/Smolkobold
Series: [Sketch] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091282





	[SKETCH] Monika Awakens

I awoke slowly from the dream I was drifting through, my eyes struggling to accommodate the world of the conscious. Despite the adequate, utilitarian lighting of the room, my eyes failed to gain any purchase on the grey darkness clouding my vision. Slowly, shapes began to distinguish themselves. Color seeped in, like liquid through a cloth. I was in some sort of industrial or medical building. Noticing movement, I reflexively turned, only to be held in place.

Iron bonds wrapped in cracked, darkened leather held my wrists in place. Thick copper wire bound my ankles. A white, porcelain figure stood at the far end of the room, peering over a stainless steel tray. In some places, the outer structure was cracked, revealing chunky, pink, naked flesh. Other spots leaked a black-crimson fluid.

“Hi there.”

“Before we get started I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”

It spoke in the voice of a woman, albeit with no tone or inflection, and began to walk towards me. It held a wicked scalpel in green-gloved hands and wore a matching facemask around its neck. Otherwise, it wore nothing at all. It moved with the cadence of a clockwork machination, contrary to what the apparent flesh and bone under its scuffed pearly carapace would imply. A twisted, pale impression of human life containing a gnarled and cancerous body within.

It leaned over me, waiting for me to respond. I shut my eyes and tried to keep as still as possible. I could hear its heavy, labored breathing. A few seconds passed and I opened my eyes, hoping it had moved. Its face was inches from mine, and it pulsed in and out with each breath as if it was being suffocated by a thick membrane covering its face.

“Are you still there?”

It lifted the scalpel and twisted it into its knee. A horrible scraping sound followed, and it cried out in a voice completely unlike the one it spoke with. Muffled screams came from where I assumed its throat would be and more black liquid poured from the chipped outer shell. I reflexively inhaled, and it turned to face me. When I saw its blank, white face I immediately knew what would follow.

Its scalpel would bury itself below my sternum and my stomach would be cut open while I was conscious. Each one of my organs would be removed, one at a time, and it would show me them in turn. There was no way of escaping this. Each moment I bled wouldn’t matter, because it would keep perfect pace. In my final moments of consciousness, it would expertly remove my heart, cradling it like a newborn child as my blood smeared over its waxy chest.

“Thank you.”

Screams echoed out from inside of the creature, something bulged out of its shell, cracking the surface for only a moment before everything fades to black. I try to scream, but I am already dead.


End file.
